Gods of Enterriso
The Gods of Enterriso have their origins in the Disordered Chaos that surrounds the Ordered Chaos, they are beings of energy and emotion, of desire and worry, that manifested in the Ordered Chaos as divinities. They took names, they obtained followers, and their followers empowered them with belief and prayer. And thus, the Gods were born. The Gods take many forms, though all have a form that, if not comfortable to look upon, is at least human enough to not cause mortals who look upon them to go mad from looking upon unfettered Chaos-Stuff. The form of the god depends on many thing, from the God’s own self-image to what the God represents, to the realm of Disordered Chaos that it emerged from. However, all who look upon a God know that they do so, for few Gods can intentionally conceal their divine nature. A God cannot be destroyed, killed, or made undone, not even by another God. As a God’s form sustains more damage, it becomes harder and harder to sustain, until they unravel and become raw Chaos-Stuff, killing all mortals nearby, or at the very least driving them utterly mad. Then, it may take years, decades, or even centuries, for the God to properly reform, but it will collect its broken self, absorb shards that fell to the wayside, and eventually, it will emerge again. Even if every temple to its name has been razed, every follower executed, every idol torn down, the God will emerge once again. There are seventeen major gods, and countless minor ones, new gods emerging wherever a need may be. If the God’s sphere is no longer present (for example, a household God for a household that no longer exists), then the God will twist and turn and writhe until it turns itself into something else, into a Shattered. These Gods represent the closest a God will ever come towards death, and these mad gods will forever wander the world, shrieking and crying in agony for their fallen status, and lashing out at the followers of any other God who comes close. Some Shattered Gods will find a new life as a leader of a cult, twisting even more until they become an entirely new God, with no memories of its previous life. Gods of Enterriso Laegos, God of Magic and knowledge Laegos is the God of Magic and Knowledge, of hidden truths and obvious lies, the God from which most mages draw their power from, and the God that scholars pray to as they prepare to delve deep into the forgotten lores and hidden scripts. Laegos takes the form of a grey-skinned humanoid, standing tall over mortal men with tendrils in place of a proper mouth, ever-twitching and moving as he speaks. His robes are long and flowing, his arms almost perpetually folded, with telekinesis and tentacle doing the job of moving things for him. To be near him is to feel magic coursing through the air, the electric crackle of chaos and unreality being manifested in the world. Laegos, then, is feared by many, and sought after by many at the same time, for he promises truths of the universe to those with both the will and the desire to learn them. What those truths do to those who hear them, however, is not his concern. His concern is only in collecting, archiving, and then sharing knowledge. Orders of scholars and warrior-monks have formed in his name, and many mages will devote their lives to serving him both directly and indirectly, for his rewards are great for the dutiful student. “Come now! Don’t cry, it’s merely an image. It’s not as if a rendition of a Chaos Spawn can actually hurt you! I haven’t even taken you to see one yet.” Sa-Reshi, God of Plagues, Vermin, and Decay Sa-Reshi is the Goddess of Plague, Decay, and Rot within the world of Enterriso. She leads the cults of death, the worm-faiths and the rat-worshippers. As she walks throughout the world, warscythe in hand, she rots the world around her, blight spreading from her very being and killing trees, grasses and flowers around her. Sometimes, she will suppress her powers and enter a city freely as a young woman looking for work, other times she wanders the world, still deceptively beautiful, wearing a robe of decaying and regrowing leaves. Sa-Reshi’s a kind soul to those who embrace her, and understands that those who wish her ill simply do not understand the boons she provides, the thousands of sources of life she creates from the sacrifice of a few. As she rots the around around her, those who accept her become ever-closer with the children of Sa-Reshi, the maggots and worms, the rats and mice, the fungus and mold. It’s not uncommon to see a servant of Sa-Reshi with maggots growing within them, or a familiar in the form of a large carrion-bird. Many become stewards of her children, devoting their lives raising them. Sa-Reshi’s gifts are many. Freedom from illness’s debilitating effects, functional immortality, strength and power far above other men, small shards of her own power passed to favoured servants, creating demi-gods and children who share her blood. Many embrace her as a last resort, their own villages wracked with plague and wanting an escape, any escape. Others who embrace her do so for a lust of power, consequences be damned. She leads armies to war personally, soldiers whose very presence can send a city into a spiral of disease and death without once raising their swords. However, her diseases are not always effective, there may always be a doctor too wily for her mortal servants, and she has a constant rivalry, bordering on perhaps being the only other being she truly hates, with the God of Medicine, Karos. The two of them constantly set back each other’s plans, creating a sort of strange balance between them, preventing either from actually winning their war. “Rot, decay, holy putrefaction, the downfall of empires and lay-lower of kings. That is who I am, child, and I shall spread throughout all the land, the unbelievers cast into the fetid pits to wallow and mingle their unworthy filth with that of my chosen.” Komru, God of War, Blood, and Weapons Komru, Goddess of War, Blood, and Weapons, is known for her brutal, uncompromising nature. She is dark-skinned, scarred, and her black hair is shaved short. When she goes to war, it is not under her own banner. No, it is instead under one of countless banners from another King, serving under them for a time. Even those armies that do not admit women will not deny the divinity’s request, and she serves as a foot soldier in formation with all others, only accepting command when absolutely needed. Brutal in warfare, many battles have been turned by her mere presence, without a single arrow being loosed or a blade being swung. The terror of facing a war goddess will make many otherwise brave men run, should her presence be made known. With spear, sword, axe, halberd, mace, she is equally proficient, and equally terrifying. Komru prefers to get into close combat, not because she believes ranged combat is somehow lesser, but because she prefers to be deep in the fray, the forlorn hope, the first into the breech and last to leave the fight. Komru, however, is constantly judging the armies she fights in. Their formation, their training, their commanders, everything and more is judged and weighed, and if found wanting, she will react in anger. Red hot, seething rage as the ground bursts and thick blood pours from the cracks, immortal warriors of her Legion Divine springing from the ooze and hacking down her once-allies. This is not betrayal, this is merely retribution for the insults levied against her. She rewards great soldiers with strength, toughness, with skill and new weapons, and many of the greatest conquerors later went on to join her Legion Divine at the end of their lives. She only elevates those who die in battle, but those who are elevated become immortal servants of war, fighting with ensorcelled weapons and under the leadership of the greatest warrior to ever exist. “Come now, you warriors, and test your mettle! Can you fight me?! Can you even hope to win? Show me your strength, show me your power! Come on, hit me as hard as you can, oh hopefuls!” Faelyth, God of Agriculture Faelyth is the Goddess of Agriculture, taking the form of a young woman with dark skin and long, coiled hair, wearing a dress made of leaves that constantly grow, starting at the shoulders and moving down to the knees, where they fall off and drop, growing into divine plants referred to as Ambrosii. These plants produce a golden berry that can cure near all ails, making their extremely valuable. She almost always carries a scythe or a sickle, and will often aide farmers during harvesttime, much to their delight. Her servants are by fair the most numerous, and by far the least loyal. Many people worship her for good crops and bumper years, but if she should fail them too often, either by the subversive plans of other gods, or through simple inability to change weather on a continent-wide scale, she will be abandoned for one of her lesser-loved but more loyal siblings. And thus, Faelyth is both the most popular, and most betrayed, of all the gods. She does not demand her followers go to war, save in defense of their own homelands. She does not demand that they sacrifice living animals, or tear out the tears of enemies, only that a part of each year’s crop is given to her. She is a kind, loving goddess, personal and present, and for all her faults, she is still much loved. “Come now, your barley might not be doing so well, but look upon your apples! Here, I know that disease is often hard, and I understand the pain you must feel. Take one of my leaves, and plant it. Thus, I shall always be with you. The berries go very well with some crushed snow, or so I am told.” Losu, God of the Ocean, Fishermen, and Sailors Losu, God of the Ocean, is the Lord of all the seas and oceans, the patron of sailors and fishers, the king of marine life and more. He controls every tide, every ocean, and the storms of the sea bow to him. The pale, scaled God travels on a massive Zaratan, an island-sized turtle, swimming nearby whenever the Zaratan stops to rest or eat, and his most favoured servants always come with him, living in the natural tunnels and holes in the shell. Losu is a demanding, needy God who refuses to help those who do not sacrifice part of their catches to him, leaving particularly egregious offenders to be damned by storms and currents, by still air in the middle of the ocean and by sea monsters rising up to attack. Those who refuse him, and yet proclaim themselves ocean-travellers, will soon meet fury unequal. Those who are diligent, however, will experience calm days and good catches, at least for the most part. Losu may revoke his support for a short time to ensure that everyone knows he is ultimately in control of the oceans, though this never lasts for long. “Ah, yes. Pirates. Mo’ile, won’t you please send a storm after them?” Sa-Namir, God of the Flesh and change Sa-Namir takes a sick delight in twisting flesh and bone. Vein and fat, muscle and tendon, all bend to his will as he twists and turns flesh from its original form to something greater. It is the ultimate expression of art, to twist life itself into a form most pleasing. A deer into a deadly predator, a fish into a walking nightmare, a man into one thousand-thousand evils. He takes delight in each change of form, in each flesh that he manipulates. His servants willingly offer their bodies to him, to be morphed into horrible forms that can seek revenge on all those who laughed, on all those who tormented, on all those who made them hate themselves. His servants are outcasts, from birth unto death, forever ostracized, before and after they found His Word. But still, they create effigies in His name, they speak His holy word, and they practice his divine craft. Turning the apostates into divine beauty, they cut skin and break bone, they graft flesh and move tendon, until the unworthy looks pleasing to Sa-Namir. Then, these creations are herded, treated as cattle, to aid their new masters, the memories of their old life growing dim as they are forced into slavery and broken through pain and anguish. Vast networks of slave running are conducted under this god, with the changed and transmuted people who serve him, willingly or not, sold and traded like cattle, to whoever holds the highest pried. And thus, his teachings do spread. The lord of change will not be denied dis due, and all who are changed in his name will pone day return to him, to join his legion that wars forever against the other gods. “Alchemy teaches that metal is mutable. Why, then, is flesh considered unchangeable? All things can change, if enough force is applied.” Joros, God of the Forest and Plains, Hunters and Trappers Joros, the God of the Forest and the Plains, is a two-faced God who stands in both the thick canopies of the woods, and the flat grasslands. He supports hunters who inhabit both, and with his permission forests bend to the will of those who know his songs. He goes throughout the forests of the world, singing songs that the trees alone know, branch bending and leaf turning to his music. With a set of bone pipes, he dances throughout, bringing the spirits of the trees to life. Throughout the plains, he reshapes the flat grasslands, creating hills and valleys that gently slope and turn, and he summons forth the multitude of elder creatures that lay just beneath the dirt, ones that humans can see once he brings them forth, not a moment before. Joros takes the form of a man constructed out of moss and branches, his bone flutes held in a thick pouch of plants and vines. His servants protect the forests and plains with quarterstaves and fire-hardened branches, rarely taking up metal arms against the foe unless they are directly gifted by their god. "It's the forest. Do you not hear the music within?" Saelit, God of Fire, Forge, and Volcanoes The God of the Forge is a man who, for many reasons, is trying to forget. His mind and body pulse with the raw fury of the Disordered Chaos, and he constantly tries to expunge it all, at the cost of his own memories. What happened a century ago is blurry, what happened a millennium ago is completely forgotten, even the names of his greatest servants are things he needs reminders of. However, in exchange for this, he works into his weapons and tools his memories, his Chaos-Stuff, into magical weapons that flicker with energy potent and unfettered. Thus, one of the few beings that he always has a crystal-clear memory of is Saelit, asking for weapons and shields and armors for her legions, asking for gifts for mortal followers, promising him alliance in exchange. He does not even desire the gifts, as he has no need for war, no bloodlust in his divine body. However, he is happy to have the weapons disposed of, his pain and those last memories pulled away from his workshop so he may never again be plagued by them. Saelit takes the form of a perpetually ashy-skinned being with six arms, and just as many eyes, able to all focus on different tasks at once. Despite his larger size and imposing stature, he is in fact gentle and kind, soft-spoken and joyful, at peace when he is forging. He is well-loved, his weapons often created for other gods to give to their own mortal servants (after modifications have been made, of course), and thus very few dare to raise up arms against him. “Another thousand swords, Komru? Come back tomorrow, I shall have them done.” Karos, God of Medicine Karos is the Lord of Medicine and the Master of Healers. As the patron of doctors, nurses, and midwives throughout the realm, he is the undisputed and ultimate enemy of Sa-Reshi, God of Plague and Decay. This rivalry does not get expressed in arenas and battles, at least not often. It is more often expressed in hospitals and apothecaries, as miasma battles herbal concoction. Karos takes the form of a man, wearing thick robes of waxed linen, always able to produce the perfect remedy from whatever he may have stored in his coats. He wanders the land with a small entourage of his most trusted followers, some mortal, some immortal, helping those who are sick and wounded, training new doctors and observing practicing ones. Many 0villages have been helped, on the brink of death and ready to pray to Sa-Reshi, before his aid cured them all. He is well-loved by the people, for his arrival always signals an alleviation of suffering. His doctors are sworn to help everyone, regardless of allegiance, with the only exception to this being those who have thrown their lot in with his rival. In the armies of kings, the doctors are there, helping both sides. In the armies of gods, the mortal servants have their wounds mended by Karosian doctors. In cities, and rural villages, by the ocean and in the deserts and the snowy wastes, there is always the presence of Karos, somewhere. He only wishes to help, and if he can’t be everywhere at once, he will make sure as many of his servants are around in his stead. “I think I can still save your leg. Just hold still for a moment.” Majir, God of the Dead Majir, the God of the Dead, is one of the few Gods who does not interact in any meaningful sense with the world. She merely sits, in her own little self-contained realm that sits off to the side of the majority of the world, herding the souls of the dead towards her. There, she explains what has happened, the fact they are dead, and what will happen once they pass through the void to the Disordered Chaos. She is an old woman, wearing thick silks and furs, constantly brewing sweet tea and making sweets, helping the many hundreds who come into her realm before sending them off, and she ensures their memories are preserved in the many pillars that hold up her realm, each name inscribed with a profession beside it. And thus, even when the souls pass into Oblivion (she lets them take as much time as they need), they are remembered in some small way by her. In addition, the few mortal followers she has act as burial-priests and graveyard guardians, ensuring the remains of the dead are not disturbed and remaining resolute and dutiful in the recording of the dead, so that they may live on even as they lay in the grave. Any who disturb the dead are met with vicious reprisal. “You’re dead, dear. Don’t cry, it’s all going to be fine. Would you like some tea?” Kolos and Maril, Gods of the Sun and Moon Kolos and Maril, lovers, foes, their relationship changing and yet always remaining too tightly linked to discuss them separately. Kolos, of the Sun, and Maril, of the Moon, shift and change their relationship just as much as Maril changes her face. Kolos and Maril will sometimes love each other with the burning passion of the sun's fires, and will sometimes hate themselves with the icy distance of the moon. It is a changing relationship, one that never remains the same, and yet, its cycles are mathematical and predictable, waxing and waning over the years. The followers of Kolos proclaim the divine light of the sun, bringing fire to those who need it and sharing the gifts of warmth with their fellow man. The followers of Maril proclaim the joy of the cold, and bring to those who need it ice and water, often making long treks into the parched lands of Enterriso to provide aid. The two of them work together very well, and the two of them often do help each other when their patron's relationship has warmed and become happy, though the two of them get into bloody and often lethal fights when their patrons grow distant. Kolos takes the form of a man, wreathed in flame and covered in fine white silks. He is inhumanly thin and tall, often towering several heads over mortal men, and moves with an almost unnatural grace. Maril takes the form of a woman, though this form is never constant. Some days she is tall and graceful, other days she is short, her face shifts and moves, never remaining the same, and changing throughout the cycles of the moon. "It's a wonderfully warm day, isn't it dear?" '' ''"I hate it" "I know you do." Sa-Hidenir, God of Sensation and Art The servants of Sa-Hidenir are, universally, lovers of sensation of all types. Sound, pain, pleasure, hunger, starvation, joy, despair, they feel it all far more powerfully than any other human, for they obsess over sensation in every possible form. Sa-Hidenir takes the form of both a woman and a man, changing between the two at will. In both forms, they are covered in tattoos and piercings, wearing robes of fur and silk and velvet, able to produce the finest of foods and instruments. They can spend years locked within a room, producing the most incredible bas-reliefs and the basest of tomes, everything they do with the highest artistry possible. Their works are known throughout the world, and their most loyal servants are invariably either incredible artisans, or depraved sense-freaks. They often go to war, with weapons engraved and gold-plated, with flags emblazoned with flags that are each a work of art in and of itself, and with horses bred to be worthy of the divine. When they go to war, it is in small warbands, raiding and pillaging, repurposing what they can and burning what they can. Even in war, they practice their art, the servants of Sa-Hidenir developing a thousand styles of fighting, distinct and unique. Their lives are consumed by art, by sensation, by desire. As it should be. “Yes! Yes! More! Evermore, give me more! Those colours, the feeling, the sound! More!” Mosharai, God of Law, Justice, and Order Mosharai is, perhaps, the most wrathful and hateful of the Gods, having written a series of six-hundred and forty laws, all of which divided into categories and given proper punishments, ranging from fines to boiling alive. Any who break these laws are subjected to punishment, context and reasons completely ignored. Mosharai’s Law accounts for all, and to live by it is to not permit anything else. No law of any king can be considered above Mosharai’s Law, and if obeying the Divine Code means violating the laws of mortals, then so be it. The followers of Mosharai are ordered into many castes, from the high priests under only Him directly, to the soldiers and then the craftspeople, to the menials and serfs. Anyone who strays from their caste is punished, as disobeying the order put forth by Mosharai is considered the gravest of sins. Mosharai takes the form of a grim, taciturn man who rarely smiles and even more rarely laughs. In the robes of the Arbiter, black cloth covered in symbols and pendants of silver, he travels his lands, deciding on difficult cases and giving out the punishments himself. He always carries a golden book, in which are silver inscriptions detailing his Law, the runes and glyphs changing to accommodate any linguistic or educational differences. Even the illiterate will, for a short time, be able to read and grasp his Law, and thus his justice can reach all areas of the world. “Order for all things. Justice for all people. Law for all societies. I shall bring it, and they shall live by it.” Lorar, God of Love, Family, and Compassion Lorar is the God of Love, Family, and Compassion, and they take on a totally androgynous form, but they often shift their appearance to fit the ideals of beauty within the culture they join, and change gender just as often. They take human lovers, their most loyal of servants rewarded with their personal affection and love, and often starts a family, their children demigods who preach the ideals of their parents. However, Lorar cannot abide the horrors of immortality, and thus, cannot bring themselves to grant it as a gift to their servants, damning Lorar to see every single person they’ve ever loved grow old and die, abandoning them to oblivion each and every time. Lorar never recovers from each loss, remembering each lover and keeping the memories alive, canonizing and praising their unfortunate wives and husbands. And thus, no one they love truly dies, even if they are not alive. “Please don’t leave me.” Lyth, God of Revenge and Hate Lyth is the God of Revenge and Hate, a God who demands too much and receives nothing they desire from their followers, a God who seethes with rage at the mere mention of their enemies’ names, a God who if crossed, is the worst foe anyone could imagine. Tall, lanky, with a thin and too-long face, fingers with extra joints, and a thousand other deformities, their body flickers between porcelain and coal, their unblemished-yet-changing skin exposed for the whole world to see. They do not wear clothes, save for the broken manacles around their neck, ankles, and wrists, the skin under them long stripped off. Lyth is part avenger, part oppressor, coming to the aid of those who have been wronged, and extracting a terrible price from them in return for Lyth’s aide. Any attempt to refuse the price will, inevitably, lead to Lyth killing the person who once welcomed them. And thus, they get a new servant, forced into life-debts and blood-payments to serve Lyth until their dying day. “A life for a life, you wanted him dead, now I want something from you.” Muns-la-ai, God of Mountains, Caves, and Miners Lady of the Deep and Queen of the Riches of the Earth, Muns-La-Ai is the God of all that dwells in stone, all that sits in the deep ground below the light. An eyeless, pale God wearing robes of heavy woven gold and silver, inset with gems that she will never be able to look upon. She stands shorter than most mortals even, and were it not for the mineral wealth she controls, not a single mortal or God would pay her mind. And yet, she controls the most vital of resources. Coal, iron, silver, gold, all are hers. Miners who do not pay her respect will see collapses, deadly gases, and more calamities befall them. Muns-La-Ai is not stingy, however, nor is she uncaring to the plights of humans. In fact, she is very generous with the metals that are her charge, and does not keep tally or ask for much in return. Merely respect. Muns-La-Ai does not go to war too often, but when she does, legions of pale and small things, chattering and laughing in their clicking languages, rush through the battlefield, a swarm of blind and uncoordinated cave-creatures that resemble her, armed with a full panoply of war ranging from brutal, crude swords, to elegant spears worthy of the God they serve. ''"What is the point of gold and gems, if I cannot see their shine? Let others enjoy them, for I cannot." ''